


A Quiet Moment

by Pretentious_Procrastinator



Series: ATLA Meets Camp Nano July 2020 [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Established Relationship, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25094854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pretentious_Procrastinator/pseuds/Pretentious_Procrastinator
Summary: Hakoda let out a sigh of contentment. He had rice and meat and vegetables – and even nearly a year after they’d left home, he sometimes still marvelled at how much green there could be, let alone green that he could eat – that were actually properly spiced for once, his men were safe, and Bato was warm behind him.As domestic an interlude as you can have whilst fighting a multi-generational war.
Relationships: Bato/Hakoda (Avatar)
Series: ATLA Meets Camp Nano July 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821493
Comments: 11
Kudos: 160





	A Quiet Moment

Another day, another raid on Fire Nation supply lines. The disruptions they caused were small, but if there was one thing the warriors of the Southern Water Tribes knew, it was how sometimes the smallest losses had the biggest of impacts. None of the men were injured save for cuts and bruises, a few sprains here and there, but the supplies they had _acquired_ were enough food and weapons for them and the nearby Earth Kingdom garrison town for months. The raid had been timed to weaken the Fire Nation stronghold before a planned attack on it in a few weeks’ time.

Watches had been set, and none of the men got too deep in their cups, even as they celebrated. Still, in Earth Kingdom territory, fresh from a victory over the sole Fire nation presence in the area, and camped just off the hidden beach where their ships lay, Hakoda reflected that this was as close to a night off as they’d had for a long time. And he intended to enjoy it. He returned from making the rounds amongst his men - checking on the minor injuries and discussing logistics, laughing and joking and revelling in his friends’ presences – back to the central bonfire, accepting a bowl of food and looking around for his preferred seat. 

“Koda!” 

Bato’s deep voice helped Hakoda pinpoint him against the glow of the sunset. He was lying a little way off from the other men, the full length of him stretched out on his side, propped up on his elbow. Making his way over, Hakoda sank to sit cross-legged in the slight curve of Bato’s body. He leant against Bato’s stomach as easily as against a driftwood log, letting him take some of his weight, and Bato’s free arm curled round Hakoda’s body, his hand warm and heavy against Hakoda’s upper thigh. Hakoda let out a sigh of contentment. He had rice and meat and vegetables – and even nearly a year after they’d left home, he sometimes still marvelled at how much green there could be, let alone green that he could eat – that were actually properly spiced for once, his men were safe, and Bato was warm behind him. They chatted for a while as Hakoda ate, Bato having already finished his, but for the most part they just sat quietly, listening to the other conversations around them and enjoying each other’s presence. 

Hakoda felt tired, but not ready for sleep. Instead, he put down the bowl he had been cradling in his lap and twisted to face Bato, drinking in his familiar face. As always, the slight smile he offered Hakoda lightened his naturally serious features, and Hakoda leant down to kiss him just to feel that smile against his own.

“Come to bed with me?” They had known each other far too long to play coy. 

“In a moment. I want to talk Paruk. You go ahead and I’ll be along shortly,” Bato said, shoving gently at his shoulder to get him to move.

Hakoda obliged, collecting both of their bowls as he rose, Bato hauling himself up in turn. Hakoda ducked his head to hide his smirk. Close to four decades old, a seasoned and capable warrior fully in command of his body and his weapon in combat, and Bato still sometimes moved like the gangly teen he’d once been, rediscovering the length of his limbs one clumsy movement at a time. 

A few minutes and a handful of sand later, the bowls had been scoured clean and returned to the pile by the fire, and Hakoda had returned to his own resting place. Camping in less a clearing and more a simple thinning of the forest gave them more privacy than usual, his and Bato’s tent shielded by a few trees from the main camp. Other couples amongst the tribesmen had done the same. 

The weather had been warm the past few days, even by the standards of people not from the poles. Hakoda and most of the others had stripped down to just their sleeveless tunics once they had bathed after the skirmish, and it was a matter of seconds to undo the ties holding it shut. He debated leaving it on, knowing that Bato appreciated how it framed his chest when left hanging open, but decided upon comfort over aesthetics. His boots were next, stored to his side of the tent, just inside the flap; experience had taught them the hard way that as awkward as trying to take boots off inside the tent was, especially for a man of Bato’s height, it was better than leaving them out of reach. And it wasn’t as if they could take them off outside the tent and then bring them insi - Hakoda slapped his forehead. They truly were idiots. A lifetime of freezing temperatures and snow had taught them never to take their boots off outside, and it was apparently not easily forgotten. He quickly pulled them back on and ducked back outside the tent, straightening up to look down at its peak. Bato found him a few minutes later, hopping around on one foot, boot in hand.

“Forgotten how to take it off?” 

“No, forgotten how to use my brain more like. We’ve been trying to put our boots on and off bent over in the tent all this time, and we could’ve just taken them off out here!” One hand swung out as the forest floor demonstratively. “No snow!”

“Huh. Guess we have been.” Bato’s voice was a bit bemused, but not to the extent Hakoda thought he should be. Hakoda had invented the stink ‘n sink. He planned most of their attacks. He could reel off an inspiring speech in his sleep. And yet he’d somehow failed to realise this simple thing. 

“The only problem is balancing.”

“You know you could just sit down. As you pointed out, the ground is dry. That would be easier.” Forget the ground, Bato’s _voice_ was dryer than the Si Wong desert. 

Hakoda blinked at him. Looked at the ground. Sat on the ground. “You know, I’d completely forgotten that sitting on the ground isn’t going to freeze my ass off anymore. I’d gotten to ‘feet ok’ and no further.”

The _tsk_ Bato gave at that Hakoda optimistically classified as ‘fond’, as opposed to ‘exasperated’. “And you wonder where Sokka gets it from. You’re both so clever, and yet sometimes you miss the simplest of things. At least he’s got a chance of growing out of it.”

Even as a joke, the mention of Sokka made Hakoda’s heart ache. He missed his children so much. Still felt guilty about leaving them, about piling so much responsibilities on their shoulders.

Bato sank to sit in front of him, placing his hand on Hakoda’s bare ankle. “We’ll see them again soon.”

It helped, a little. He reached forward to place his own hand over Bato’s, squeezing it and playing with his fingers. “I notice how you didn’t lump yourself into that group. You didn’t think about this either.”  
“Hey, you’re the ideas guy.”

Hakoda looked up at Bato from under his lashes. Even seated, he was still taller by half a head. “Well, I’ve got some ideas now, if you want to hear them.”

“They can’t be too inventive if you’re too tired to remember there isn’t snow on the ground.” Bato gently batted away Hakoda’s hand from the laces of his remaining boot, starting to undo it himself. “You were awake when I went to sleep last night and when I woke up. The night before that as well. How much sleep have you actually been getting?”

“…not enough.” Hakoda had spent so much of his life telling Bato everything that the truth was easy to say. His face was more familiar to Hakoda than his own - the long solemn shape of it so easily brightened with a smile, the curve of his large nose, his high cheekbones and the furrows around his mouth - and Hakoda looked at it like a view he’d never tire of. “I need to sleep. But not yet. I want you first.”

“Glad to know where I rank. Careful, Mr Cool Guy, you’ll make this go to my head. Don’t you know the best way to flirt is to ignore the other person?”

Hakoda groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. “Are you ever going to let that go? I was _fifteen.”_

Undoing his own boots, Bato scoffed. “Please, do you even know me? Kya and I used to rank your most embarrassing moments.”

Hakoda couldn’t help but laugh. He was glad for it, glad that the happy times when he thought of Kya were increasing, because she had always been mischievous and playful, even as she raised Sokka and Katara. “Of course you did. She never let me take myself seriously. If there was any opportunity to trip me up, she’d take it.”

“I’m personally a fan of the time we recreated the water spirit prank whilst you had to give that speech.” Bato crawled into the tent, taking both of their boots with him. “The look of horror on your face when your mother figured out who’d done it originally was fantastic.”

Following Bato inside, Hakoda cursed his own taste in partners. Public humiliation wasn’t one of his kinks, but you wouldn’t know it to look at Bato, and formerly Kya. It was all in good fun of course, and neither of them would’ve continued if it bothered Hakoda half as much as he pretended it did. Their tribe was small enough that his position as chief did not matter that much, but it still set him apart to a certain extent, especially since he’d become a full time war leader; having people for whom that didn’t matter was a great comfort. Bato had always done that as his friend, and recently, as Hakoda rediscovered room for romantic love in his heart since Kya’s death, as his partner in everything. Including their joint tent and bed. 

He waited until Bato had removed his tunic before tackling him onto their bedrolls. No need to make things more difficult by trying to remove it himself. He landed on top of Bato, who let out an exaggerated oof at his weight, the affect ruined by the smile crinkling the crowjay’s-feet around his eyes. The deep furrows running alongside Bato’s mouth were made only more pronounced, and to Hakoda they were like a star guiding him home, leading him to lean down and kiss Bato, properly this time, biting down gently on his bottom lip and encouraging the tilt of Bato’s head to make it deeper. Bato’s hands ran across his back, calluses catching against his skin. It felt wonderful, and so very real, and Hakoda revelled in the knowledge that they had both come through the day safely.  
His own hands were braced on the bedroll, bracketing Bato’s head, taking some of the weight off Bato. He could take it, but sometimes Hakoda longed for gentleness, and his sturdy build meant he was heavier than Bato with all his wiry height. Bato already carried enough, had carried Hakoda out of the darkness he had found himself in after Kya’s death, had pulled his children – though Katara had little accepted her own need for it, strengthening like a glacier under the pressure, and Hakoda hoped desperately she was at least letting someone help now – with them, helped to hold their fellow tribesmen focused and as safe as possible. If he could lighten that load somehow, in a physical way, then maybe the metaphorical weight would not be so heavy. 

Of course, that failed to consider what _Bato_ wanted. One of the hands on his back smoothed its way up to cup the back of his neck firmly, thumb digging into the tight muscle. Hakoda could feel the warmth of it even with his hair trapped between it and his skin. 

“Thinking again. You’re going to hurt yourself one of these days,” Bato said, the rumble of it passing between their chests. 

The hand on the back of his neck shifted a little, fingers weaving into his hair to scratch at his scalp and Hakoda half melted at the feeling, eyes closing and head tilting back to push into the sensation. Bato’s other hand on his lower back encouraged the movement, pulling Hakoda more firmly against him, their legs slotting together so that each of them had one leg between the other’s. Hakoda had been not quite aroused, but certainly ready to become so, since sat by the campfire, and now he surrendered to it, rocking gently against Bato to enjoy the leg pressed up to him and the brush of their chests, skin and nipples and sparse hair rubbing together. 

He ducked to kiss Bato again. One of his hands lifted from the bedroll to cradle Bato’s face, the cheekbone prominent against his palm, and he used his hold to tilt Bato’s head back, his mouth open and wet as he kissed down from his lips to his jaw, pausing to graze his teeth against the sharp line of bone. Hakoda could feel Bato’s throat bob, and moved down further, kissing at the bump of his throat before settling at a spot beneath his ear, at the hinge of his jaw. He rubbed his beard there first, until Bato wheezed out a chuckle, and then sucked. Bato’s hand on his back slid lower, grabbing at his ass. The added pressure went straight to Hakoda’s dick, and he bit down reflexively, Bato’s fingers digging into his ass tighter as his hand flexed in response. 

Act, react, as was always the way with them. And often they pre-empted each other: Bato’s hand trailed down from Hakoda’s neck to grab and pull at the leg between his own, tight against the sensitive back of his thigh, even as Hakoda swung that leg to straddle him properly. The friction was better like this, and Hakoda sat upright, rolling his hips as if riding Bato’s cock. The view was very much the same, Bato’s bright eyes turned dark at the sight of him, one of Hakoda’s own hands splayed across his lower stomach as he lay out beneath him; they may both be still wearing their trousers and loincloths – that were growing more uncomfortable by the minute – but the feel of Bato’s hands on his thighs and the erection beneath him were barely muted. 

However, as much as Hakoda enjoyed being fucked like this, or vice versa, it wasn’t what he wanted tonight. Wasn’t particularly practical either. 

“We should’ve gotten undressed first.” 

Hakoda’s voice was rough even to his own ears, but Bato’s thumbs were rubbing at his inner thighs, just as he liked, and for all that he wanted the feeling without clothing between them, he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to move. Bato didn’t help. Instead, he sat up, hands sliding round from Hakoda’s thighs to encircle him. Like this, the height difference between them was cancelled out; as Bato lowered his head to rest it against Hakoda’s shoulder, Hakoda took the rare opportunity to kiss the top of Bato’s head. His hands followed, undoing the cord holding half of Bato’s hair in a tail. The hair was soft between his fingers, as it had once always been; travelling on their ships meant they ate as much fish as they had at home, the oils helping to keep their hair healthy, and due to the nearby river it wasn’t stiff with salt for once. 

“Probably. I’m in no hurry though. For once, we’ve got time.” Bato punctuated his statement with a series of leisurely kisses against Hakoda’s shoulder and collarbones. “Take your hair down as well?”

Hakoda did as he asked, placing the two cords carefully on the ground next to their bedrolls. No need to spend half the morning looking for them amongst their blankets, especially not when even a ‘safe place’ such as their current camp was not entirely exempt from danger. They could never completely let down their guard. 

“As long as you help me comb it out afterwards, I know what you’re like with it. Now, if you want to take all the time in the world, let me get off my knees.”

“They going on you already, old man?” Beneath the teasing there was gentle worry in Bato’s voice. 

Hakoda braced himself on Bato’s shoulders, patting one reassuringly. “Nothing too serious. Just a bit bruised from an ill-advised dodge earlier. Let me just – “ He raised up onto his knees properly, awkwardly twisting first one leg then the other around Bato - wincing momentarily at the stretch of sore muscles - so that he was sat properly in his lap, feet comfortably crossed behind Bato’s back. “Numbed it in the river earlier, it’s just a bit tender.” 

Bato put his hand on Hakoda’s knee gently. They just sat for a moment, foreheads touching and eyes closed, breathing in the same air. Hakoda loved being held like this, one of Bato’s arms round his back, the other resting on his knee, but just as much he enjoyed holding Bato in return. It was comforting being wrapped around his partner, feeling like his legs round Bato’s narrow waist and his hands held tight on broad shoulders could shield Bato from the world; it fuelled the part of him that had stepped up to be chief when the needs of his tribe had demanded it, the part that ached to look after every injured animal he saw. Hakoda didn’t need to be needed, and he didn’t want Bato _to_ need him, but sometimes he liked to pretend. 

And sometimes he just wanted to feel the steady pressure of another (Bato’s) body against his own. 

Despite himself, Hakoda could feel lethargy setting in. He didn’t bother to stifle a jaw-cracking yawn. “Mmmm, this might be _too_ slow. Don’t be too offended if I fall asleep on you.”

“Oh, I’m used to it.” 

“Hey!” 

From this close, foreheads separated but faces still nearly touching, looking at Bato’s raised eyebrow made Hakoda go cross-eyed. He huffed, acknowledging the point, and stole a kiss as consolation. Bato flattened his feet against the floor, leveraging Hakoda closer to him with his knees, so that Hakoda sat more heavily on his hips; Hakoda had little leverage in his position but enough that he could start up the same rocking rhythm from earlier. 

“Sex, or sleep? Be honest, Koda.” The catch in Bato’s voice when he spoke boosted Hakoda’s ego a little. His smugness didn’t last though, interrupted by a slightly choked noise as Bato’s hand shoved down the back of his trousers and loincloth to grab at his ass. Despite the way he’d grabbed at him, Hakoda knew that Bato was asking seriously, that there was no obligation built into the touches other than a desire for closeness. What form that took was up to him. 

“Sex,” he decided. “But let’s get undressed now.”

Clambering off of Bato was slightly awkward, especially with the low slant of the tent, but they separated and began to undress. They were both too practical to often bother undressing each other, not when it was quicker and easier to do it themselves and so they wriggled out of their trousers and loincloths with all the grace expected of undressing in a space where they couldn’t stand up, but nonetheless with a haste learned through experience. 

They came back to each other on their bedrolls, lying on their sides to face each other. Hakoda rested his hand on Bato’s flank and let their calves tangle together, the brush of their leg hair creating a pleasant friction. He lost himself in the sensation for a moment, Bato’s hand against his jaw, until a thumb came to rest against his lower lip. Sucking it into his mouth, he let saliva pool around it, some of it dripping down into his beard, until Bato removed his thumb and replaced it with each of his fingers in turn. Bato’s fingers tasted of little, the skin clean, but the texture of them against Hakoda’s sensitive tongue always drove him wild – the slight variations in his skin, the calluses where he’d caught his hands against the riggings, the groove around each of his finger joints. Hakoda ensured each of them was wet before releasing the suction on them. Both of their dicks were already wet, a little, from precum, but wetter was always better and tonight Hakoda wanted all the ease he could get. Once he relinquished Bato’s hand with a final nip to the underside of his wrist for good measure, Bato reached down and stroked his dick with a single finger. 

Hakoda twitched at the tease. Bato chuckled softly, taking pity and Hakoda’s dick in hand. His hand slid smoothly, grasping just looser than Hakoda would for himself, catching too lightly at the sensitive spot just below the head of his dick. Not taking pity, then. He reached forwards to take Bato in hand in turn, maybe goad him into speeding up, but Bato intercepted his hand, letting go of Hakoda to do so. 

“Let me, Koda. Let me look after you for once.” 

There were many replies to that: some glib (jokes at his own expense, or about Bato not pulling his weight in the bedroom) and many more serious (reminders of all that Bato had done for him, how he never seemed to stop looking after him). None of them seemed to fit this moment. Hakoda let his eyes slide closed and his head fall forwards to rest against Bato’s. His fingers flexed on Bato’s hip, but otherwise he didn’t let the restlessness rise, instead settling in to enjoy the calmness of the slow pace. 

“That’s it.” Bato’s voice was both comforting and arousing, the low timbre of it magnifying it even in a whisper. Hakoda sought out his lips, finding them easily even with his eyes closed. After all they had done in bed, Hakoda still thought that this was his favourite; touching all along their bodies, the sheer intimacy of breathing the same air every time they broke from kissing, a hand not his own but belonging to someone he know so well it almost might as well be stroking his dick. It could only be improved if he was touching Bato in return. Suddenly, his hand on Bato’s hip wasn’t quite enough. He slid it round to Bato’s ass, hand spreading almost the span of one cheek – and Hakoda had a flash of fondness for Bato’s infamously (at least amongst the Tribe) flat ass – using it to move them even closer, until Bato’s dick bumped into his own wrist. 

“Both of us, please, Bato.”

Bato acquiesced, running his hand down his own dick to spread his pre-cum, head to base, before taking them both back in hand. Hakoda exhaled heavily, echoed a moment later by Bato, and extracted his leg from the tangle of their feet to hook it over Bato’s hip. It left Bato with little room to move his hand between them, but enough. It took some slight contorting, but Hakoda kept his hand on Bato’s ass and reached _down_ , fingertips just rubbing at his perineum – he couldn’t quite reach his balls from the back, but Bato liked this nearly as much anyway. 

Neither of them were loud, a lifetime of communal sleeping in family igloos preparing them for sharing cramped ships and tents. This close together, though, they didn’t need to be. Bato’s low groan was muffled against Hakoda’s temple, neither of them tilting to find each other’s mouth anymore; despite the apparent length of Bato’s legs, most of his height was in his rangy torso, and keeping themselves aligned at the hips enough to both rut into Bato’s hand was suddenly more important. 

Finesse was far beyond Hakoda at this point. But that was another reason he loved sex like this – the instinctual, messy ease to it. Sweat between them helped to slick the movements of their bodies, pre-cum slid across both of their stomachs, and Hakoda’s chin itched slightly as saliva dried in his beard. He was beginning to lose feeling in the arm trapped beneath him, but he still wiggled it under Bato’s body to cling to his back, and his fingers were beginning to cramp from rubbing and stroking at Bato. Bato’s arm was no doubt the same. But the best part was that they didn’t _care_ , not when it felt this good. 

Hakoda stopped thinking about anything else, let himself block out the outside world and its worries for just a moment. Let himself think about different things. About being here, with Bato, who had always been there and hopefully always would be. Bato’s hand and Bato’s dick against his and Bato’s back against his arm and Bato’s hot breath against the sweat beading in his hairline.

They didn’t often tell each other they loved each other. Not in those words. It was obvious enough to both of them, a fact of the world they took for granted. The moon waxed and waned, Hakoda loved Bato, Bato loved Hakoda. Just because the form of that love had changed, it hadn’t ushered in any fears that it would waver, especially not when they so often showed each other without speaking: drawings left in Hakoda’s cabin to help illustrate their next attack plan, Bato’s weapons cleaned and honed before he could get to them, favoured dishes saved for each other. And here in this little tent, where every move of their body was a confirmation of their feelings for each other, Hakoda didn’t need to say them out loud. Bato’s name was enough.

He had to clear his throat before he could say even that, mouth dry from panting. 

“Ba -” 

Bato rubbed firmly at his dick, just below the head, and the rest of Bato’s name was cut off as Hakoda came. Bato held him through it, stroking his dick and back gently until Hakoda went boneless, planting face first onto Bato’s collarbones. His leg across Bato, now slid down to his knees, was the only thing keeping him from turning completely onto his front. A good thing too, because Hakoda knew that his tiredness, when combined with the orgasm he’d just had, and his favourite sleeping position (on his front, arms and legs akimbo, one hand on his bed partner) would be a recipe for falling asleep immediately. Ignoring that he would severely regret waking up covered in cum, he also did have _some_ manners. Besides, seeing Bato come was one of his favourite things, and over half of the point of having sex with him – he wasn’t going to miss it by sleeping, not when he could help. 

Flopping back onto his side and sitting up slightly, he pushed Bato down onto his back with a hand on his stomach. He kept the hand there, not quite touching Bato’s dick, as he leant over for a kiss, ignoring Bato’s plaintive, “ _Koda._ ” 

Taking a trick from the man himself, Hakoda waited for Bato to settle into the kiss before trailing his hand from Bato’s stomach, down the length of his arm, to grab at his wrist and guide it back to his own dick. Hakoda’s cum still covered his hand, slick against their fingers as Hakoda wrapped his own hand over Bato’s on his dick. He set the pace, fast and steady, in a way he knew would get Bato off. Breaking the kiss – Bato was barely responding anyway, mouth gone slack with pleasure – Hakoda instead watched Bato’s face, and just as Bato’s free hand grabbed at his thigh, pulled away Bato’s hand on his dick to work him through the last few seconds before orgasm by himself. 

Bato came against his stomach and Hakoda’s hand with a low grunt, hips arching upwards. Hakoda leant down again, resting their foreheads together. He waited, hand loose around Bato’s softening dick, until their breathing synced. Out and in and out in. He waited until Bato reached for his hand, pulling it away from him, and sat up again so that Bato could bring the hand up to his mouth; what Bato found arousing, a tongue moving against his fingers, Hakoda found ticklish, and he knew this way of cleaning up his hand was based on being a dick as much as it was practical. The smirk around Hakoda’s fingers was as good as a confirmation. 

When he’d finished, Bato released Hakoda’s hand and reached for the cloth on his side of the bedrolls, using it to clean up the rest of them.

“And you couldn’t have done that with my hand?”

Bato’s eyes glinted, but his face smoothed into blankness. “No.”

Hakoda huffed out a breath through his nose in fake annoyance. “Thank you, very much.” He reached out blindly behind him, searching for his clothing. “Not to ruin the _charming_ afterglow, but I need to piss before I fall asleep.”

Bato stretched, the full expanse of him barely confined by the length of the tent. “Hmm, me too. Pass me my trousers?”

There was not much modesty to be had after living in such close proximity with the rest of the men for so long, but it was still common courtesy to at least throw on trousers before going for a toilet run, even at night. Besides, no one wanted to be the one fighting naked if anything did go wrong. They dressed quickly, once again wiggling awkwardly inside the tent, but left their boots off this time. Just before crawling outside, Bato stopped Hakoda with a hand on his ankle, ducking in for a quick kiss when Hakoda turned round. His eyes crinkled as he smiled softly at Hakoda, kissing him one more time, before shoving him over and pushing out of the tent first. 

“Hey!” Hakoda squawked, grinning despite himself. He scrambled after Bato, heading to the latrines they’d dug some distance from the main camp. 

When they returned a few minutes later, Hakoda was barely managing to stifle a yawn in the crook of his elbow. 

“Come on,” said Bato, towing Hakoda gently. They settled down onto the bedrolls again, ready to sleep this time. There was silence for a moment as they got comfortable, Hakoda half sprawled over Bato, before Hakoda spoke. Another thing that didn’t _need_ saying, but sometimes was good to anyway. 

“Kya would be glad you’re here for me. Romantically, not just like you always have been.”

Hakoda could feel Bato nodding solemnly. “She would. Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

“Bato.”

“Yes?”

“If that was a spirit-damned height joke you’re sleeping outside.”

“Don’t worry, I couldn’t stoop that low.” 

Hakoda hummed, snuggling in closer against Bato, but he wasn’t finished.

“But you could. I’m too tall for that.”

“…Motherfucker.”

**Author's Note:**

> No one, literally no one:  
> Me writing this fic: Bato is a flat ass king 
> 
> Not 100% happy with this but it's done and I'm impatient! Feel free to hmu on my [tumblr](https://thewintermusketeer.tumblr.com/)
> 
> When writing the tent bit I completely forgot about the large tent we see in the camp in "The Guru", oh well.


End file.
